


a place within him

by kirkwaltz (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Bonding, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kirkwaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Satele Shan decides to try the motherly thing and talk to Theron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a place within him

Satele scanned the tiny cantina, searching for something interesting to look at other than the cup of lukewarm tea in front of her. So far, nothing – unless a few smugglers, a Republic soldier, and a waitress counted as interesting. She'd been waiting for at least an hour. Her tea was getting cold. And her son still hadn't shown up.  
Not that she really expected him to, if she was being honest with herself. The past few times they'd met hadn't been exactly... perfect. On Rishi, on Yavin IV, she had treated him like she was nothing. As though the surname they shared was just that, a coincidence. As though the blood that ran through his veins didn't come from her.  
No, she'd never been a good mother to him. She'd never been the best parent out there – so far, _Jace_ had spoken with Theron more than she had. And the two were on better terms, as far as she could tell, though it was obvious that Theron wasn't quite comfortable with either of them – to put it lightly – butting in on his business.  
She supposed he got it from both of them, that stubbornness.  
The thought made her smile. It was clear that she was there, within him – Jace, too. The both of them had a place within him, his personality, his appearance. If that was the only proof that they shared blood, then that was it, though she preferred to think (even if the Jedi Code would prefer her not to) that he was, at least, fond of her.  
She doubted he was, though. She had never really been a good mother to him.  
But she would wait, and pray that he would come, pray that he would take the time to get to know his mother. She wasn't sure that she would see the end of this war, though whether or not her fears of dying before it's end would come true or not were yet to be seen.  
Satele took a sip of her tea, ignoring the almost foamy taste bubbling at the back of her mouth. Still no sign of him. He wasn't going to come. That was fine, of course, she hadn't really expected him to come.  
But just as she was giving up on the idea that he would, the door pushed open. She glanced up, almost jumping off her chair in surprise and thankfulness – thank the Force she didn't.  
There he was. Oh, Force, she could see so much of Jace in him. She had, the few times she had met him, the few times that she had seen him, but it was so obvious in the cantina light. He favored Jace in appearance, though there were faint traces of herself and the family she had come from there, too, in his eyes and in the slant of his nose. She was surprised that she hadn't noticed before.  
He ordered a drink – stimcaf, since it was too early in the day to order alcohol, though from what little she knew of him, she expected he would've ordered an alcoholic drink had it been later in the day.  
And then he sat down, across from her, watching her.  
One of them would have to speak, and Satele was certain it would be her. She glanced at her drink, then back up at him. “Hello, Theron,” she said, speaking as politely as possible.  
He almost looked taken aback by her words. “Hi. I didn't think you came to cantinas.”  
A joke. That was good, wasn't it? Speaking lightheartedly, that was wonderful. Satele smiled in response. “It's rare, I suppose. It isn't as though Jedi _can't_ drink alcoholic beverages.”  
“I was under the impression they couldn't.” he replied, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Clearly I don't know as much as I thought.”  
She almost laughed, but forced herself not to. She didn't want to seem strange, at all, to him – no, but she wanted to seem like, maybe, she didn't want to be cold to him. Like she wanted a relationship, between the two of them, or as much so as the Jedi Code would allow... though her words to him in the past had never really made it seem as though she did.  
But perhaps the two of them could push past that? No, probably not.  
“You'd be surprised,” she said, giving her voice a blithesome tone, or as much one as she could. “Mandalorian Jedi don't want to give up their kri'gee.”  
“Kri'gee's good. Jace Malcom – er...” Theron paused, as though almost aware he was a touchy subject for her. Not that she was going to explain why, though it was probably easy to guess. “Well, I've tried it, and it's good.”  
“I haven't,” she admitted, giving a shrug of her own.  
He nodded at her words, a subtle gesture, oh too similar to how she'd seen her own mother nod before. There was so much of Tasiele in him. She hadn't known her mother well, but memories of her were still there. “It's... a lot different than normal drinks. It's very popular on Rishi.”  
Well, they'd come to the subject of Rishi. Of course they had. She'd seen that coming, of course. “Everything is popular on Rishi, at one point or another,” she said, tilting her head slightly.  
“I doubt it. They don't like Jedi or Sith that much.” It was clear he knew that much – he'd been underground with a Sith woman named Lana Beniko, the current Minister of Intelligence, for several months. The people of Rishi, mainly pirates, hated the war. It interfered with business... but then again, it also gained them a lot of business, too. Pillaging Republic and Imperial ships, or taking jobs to fight against one side or the other as mercenaries... bounty hunters, pirates, smugglers, and the like – all of them could find ways to fight in the war, even if they didn't want to.  
Satele nodded at his words. “I noticed. In my short time there... they didn't like that I had a lightsaber.”  
“Well... You're a Jedi.” Theron actually smiled at his own words. “I think they hate the Jedi more than the Sith. Jedi hate everything pirates like, pretty much. Sith like everything Jedi hate.”  
Well, maybe Theron had a better grip on the Sith than most civilians did – not that he was a civilian. After all, he was an agent of the S.I.S.  
“True. Though I wouldn't say we hate everything the Sith like. All of us like learning, to some degree. Knowledge... they say, in some cultures, that knowledge is power.” In Satele's travels, that much she had learned. And it was the truth, after all. With knowledge, you could destroy. With knowledge, you could save. Knowledge could bring entire civilizations to their knees, or make them rise.  
“Sure,” Theron said, “but _they'd_ disagree. Hell, they'd probably decide ignorance is better than knowledge.”  
Satele held back a laugh at that. “Of course.”  
Theron took a drink. They'd come to a pause in the conversation, no natural way to go from there. So what could Satele even say? What could Theron say? She tended to prefer having the conversation stay on her terms, but that was probably something most people preferred, anyway.  
So she said the only thing she could think of saying: “So, is there a... special someone?”  
Theron almost spit out his drink, and by the look on his face, she could tell that he'd discussed this with someone else before. Possibly even Jace – she knew that they had met up for a drink or two at least once. It wouldn't surprise her if they'd discussed that exact subject. He set down his cup. “No.”  
A one word response. She'd gotten them back into a hole. “Oh? I'm surprised. You seemed quite close to -”  
Theron held up his hands, interrupting her. “We're not talking about this.”  
“My apologies. I didn't mean to tread on a bad subject.” Satele laughed, her shoulders shaking slightly.  
“Please don't bring it up. Again. _Ever._ ” She was thinking that perhaps bringing it up hadn't been the best idea... until she caught a glimpse of the look on his face. He wasn't very embarrassed, clearly holding back a laugh of his own.  
She picked up her cup of tea. “I can't promise anything.”  
Theron rolled his eyes. “I'm serious. I'll leave if you ever talk about significant others, or special somebodies, or anything of the like. I'll walk right out that door.”  
Satele's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and she let herself relax. They might be there for a while. And that was a good thing, wasn't it?  
It really was.


End file.
